


dangerous illusions

by pendragonpants



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Handcuffs, Handkerchief Code, M/M, Porn With Plot, Rimming, some plot only ig? you just need to watch inception bc thats what it is, which im sure we've all watched alr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:22:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26646715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendragonpants/pseuds/pendragonpants
Summary: It turns out you don't need Inception to get a man to change his mind.
Relationships: Eames/Robert Fischer
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	dangerous illusions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [100dabbo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/100dabbo/gifts).



> This is a birthday gift for my dear Irie! I love you so much so I hope you enjoy this little fic I've written for you! Everyone reading this should hop onto their Tumblr (@100dabbo) and wish them a very happy birthday <3 
> 
> Enjoy the fic!

With Saito gravely injured and the rest of the team losing their fucking minds, Eames knew that there wasn’t a high chance they could get information from Fischer Jr. Cobb was panicking and no one was in their right mind so it was time to take matters into his own hands. He leaned back into the rickety chair, watching Arthur and Cobb don their balaclavas to shake him up. 

It seemed like they were successful in doing so and Eames’ yells certainly made Fischer uncomfortable because Cobb came back to drag him into the room. “Don’t mess it up,” Cobb whispered under his breath. “Get the information through any means necessary?” Eames muttered back and Cobb nodded before handcuffing him to the rusty pipe. 

“Are you all right?” Robert asked, reaching out to grab his shoulder.

Fischer shifted himself, sitting up straighter and the bottom hem of pants moved up, revealing his socks and a small beige bandanna, tied loosely around his left leg. Hanky code. It was barely visible when his pants were lowered but in this position, it was clear as day. It was that moment Eames realised he didn’t need Browning’s face to get the information from Fischer. 

He hadn’t seen many people use the hanky code these days and it piqued his interest. This was Fischer’s dream and even in here, he wore the bandanna. Eames found that rather adorable, it showed that Fischer did this often because it was ingrained in him. A daily routine that he would always stick to.

He faced Fischer, letting the disguise slip off his face and he heard Fischer gasp softly and turn away from him, placing his free hand on his temple and pushing away the locks of chocolate-covered hair that fell into his eyes. “You’re the man from the taxi,” He whispered, not making eye contact with Eames.

“I am. It’s a pity we couldn’t share the ride.”

Fischer was trembling, pretty little eyes flitting towards the exit, looking for a way out. Eames freed himself from the pipe, standing up and locking the door that Cobb and Arthur had exited just minutes ago. It would be some time before they realised and it wasn’t like they’d be entering. They knew they shouldn’t interfere when he was at work.

He turned back to face the shaking man and sat next to him, keeping a minuscule distance away from him. He leaned over and spoke faintly, “So, you like being rimmed huh. I can help you with that. In exchange for some information, of course.” 

Fischer swallowed audibly, his adam’s apple bobbing as he struggled to respond. He inched away from Eames, moving closer to the pipe and tugged at his collar, pulling it up and away repeatedly. His fingers fumbled towards the bandanna on his leg and he attempted to remove it but a firm hand stopped him. 

“What are you ashamed of, Fischer? No one has to know about this.”

“Fuck you. I don’t know what you want and I don’t know any code to any safe! Just please leave me alone,” He growled. 

“Come on, Fischer, just think of me as your lover. That shouldn’t be too hard. Truthfully speaking, you’re fucking gorgeous. The moment they marked you as a target and called me in, I knew I scored. Don’t be shy.”

“Jesus Christ. I don’t even know your goddamned name and who the hell you are and you want to…” He stopped abruptly, turning pink. Fischer realised his mistake right then and there. So if he wasn’t looking for a quick fix, what was he looking for?

He pointed to himself then to Robert, “Eames, Robert Fischer. Robert Fischer, Eames. Now we are acquainted.” 

Robert scowled but the corner of his mouth twitched, betraying a smile before the dark expression crossed his face again. Eames shrugged and turned away, knowing it would be mere seconds before Robert cracked.

“I...I’m. Yes, okay.” was all the handcuffed man could say. A deep crimson had flooded his cheeks and as Eames advanced towards him, he motioned to the handcuffs with his free hand.

“Would it be alright if you took these off? It’d be very uncomfortable if you left them on.” He asked quietly.

“I’m just going to reposition you and handcuff you. I’d rather not have you running away or making a ruckus.”

Robert offered his arms up and Eames did the necessary. The other man moved slowly and timidly, turning himself to face the wall and lying down on his stomach, handcuffs wrapped around the pipe. 

“That’s not very nice of you. The ground is extremely unsanitary.” 

A hum of acknowledgement was all Eames gave to him before he dragged Robert’s trousers and underwear down, watching the man shiver as the cool air hit his posterior. He trailed his hands down the smooth skin, which was at first glance pale and plain but upon closer inspection, freckles dotted it. He held the pert globes in one hand and chucked his shoes away before shoving his pants and underwear under his slender body.

“Are you content now, Fischer?” 

“Yes. Call me Robert please.”

Eames bent over onto his hands and knees, pressing his lips against the twitching hole and his pink tongue darted out to trace the entrance. He worked slowly and in circular motions, teasing him by removing his tongue when Robert shifted closer to him. He traced the area between his hole and the hypersensitive parts around it. His agile tongue had an array of motions, ranging from horizontal to vertical drags to spirals that made Robert clench. Eames peppered his bottom with little dots before stroking his mucilaginous tongue across large sections.

Breathy whimpers escaped Robert, the occasional moan increasing its frequency. Rapid light licks contrasted with deep powerful licks and Robert seemed to enjoy that, groaning when Eames hit a sweet spot.

His body smelled fresh, rose petal and cherry blossom sweet, and it created a sense of tenderness and security for Eames. “How often do you clean yourself for this?” He whispered in between moves and Robert sighed deeply before answering, “Once or twice a week. I don’t get this very often.”

Eames made an ‘o’ shape with his lips and blew small breaths on his hole, making Robert gasp and tense as it tickled him. Coquettish puffs served to increase his annoyance and after drawn-out exhales, Eames finally gave him the feeling of warm breath. This signalled Robert he was about to dive in. 

His hole tingled, shivers from anticipation and the cold racked his body and Eames tongue flicked at his hole like a snake tasting the air in front of it. Without warning, the cold viscid muscle plunged into his hole and a lewd cry rang in the air. It moved tentatively at first, the tip probing the sides before the wide part took over and slid over his insides.

Eames did not have any problem with Robert, he’d cleaned himself well and all he could taste was Robert’s sugary flavour and the mellifluous cries that echoed in his head. His scruffy stubble brushed against his tender spots and it caused Robert to buck and struggle to move closer to him but the handcuffs stopped him, clinking loudly against the metal pipe.

“Eames...Eames” Robert mewled vociferously with no qualms about someone else hearing him and he was in a whole world of his own, relishing the moment.

Eames strayed away from his hole and onto his taint, torturing it with his teasing flicks and making desire burn in the pit of Robert’s stomach. Eames could feel himself hardening with every moan of pleasure that Robert made, the sounds went straight to his cock and Eames wanted to fuck him already but it wasn’t what Robert wanted at the moment.

Long firm strokes and trails of saliva decorated his skin, drying up quickly only to be redecorated seconds later. It was similar to painting, moving the brush that was his tongue to create prominent lines, though visible for a temporary amount of time, would be admired and adored for a long time to come. He was the artist, his tongue the paintbrush and Robert his canvas that needed to be enhanced. 

“Fuck, Eames, I’m going to come, ngh” Robert groaned, blunt fingernails scrabbling against the grey cement as he struggled to get a grip as he prepared to reach his climax. A gasp and the shudders indicated that Robert was coming and Eames didn’t stop, the guttural ‘oh’ fueling the animal inside of him. He didn’t care that Robert was coming all over his expensive Tom Ford trousers or that someone was pounding on the metal door, demanding that it’d be opened immediately.

He felt himself reach his climax and came in his pants, growling and moaning loudly as he did so, ensuring Robert heard every single sound that left his mouth. He clearly enjoyed it, panting and yanking the handcuffs in an effort to grab Eames. Sure, his pants were sticky as fuck but who cares? He definitely didn’t.

Robert went limp but Eames persisted, continuing to ravage his body with his tongue. He ran the rosy muscle over the smaller man’s spine, feeling the ridges that reminded him of eskers. He nipped the skin, rubbing it in between his pearly teeth, breathing out heavily and pulling it gently. Sucking on certain areas caused the slender man to tremble and wriggle and Eames loved it.

He reached the sweet spot on Robert’s shoulder and bit harder, teeth piercing the malleable flesh, hard enough to mar the skin but not hard enough to leave a scar. Purple and red spots were scattered across Robert like bellflowers and roses bursting through icy snow.

“My pants are ruined,” Robert muttered with his face tucked into his arm.

“You’ve got the money to buy new ones,” Eames smirked as he freed Robert from the cuffs, allowing him to wear his cream stained pants.

“Now, what did you want in return?”

Eames paused, suddenly remembering what he had said before. He decided he’d tell Robert the truth.

“You’re dreaming. This isn’t real. We...I mean they want you to sell Fischer Morrow and be your own man so Proclus Global can be the leading company. They wanted to plant the idea in your head so you’d think it was your own idea.” He admitted, suddenly feeling the back of his neck burn.

Robert blinked at him blankly, lips parted in shock. He waved his finger around swiftly but he had a calm composure which Eames was thankful for.

“None of this is real? Whatever just happened, didn’t really happen?”

“No. They don’t have to know about any of this. We can just pretend you agreed to be your own man.”

“Saito could have just asked me, you know. If he did, I wouldn’t have complained.” 

“We should be waking up soon. Unfortunately, this is where we part.”

Robert reached out to grasp his arm, doe eyes silently pleading. 

“Will I remember any of this? Will I meet you again? Please, Eames, I’ve got to know.”

The hammering on the door resumed and Eames rolled his eyes at that before holding the petite man by his shoulders.

“When you wake up, I’ll be gone but I’ll find you. The team...well, they can be pretty daft.”

Robert nodded, blinking a couple of times. Eyes open, he could see Eames. Blink, open and he was still there. Blink, and suddenly Robert realised he was sitting in his apartment. He looked around, whipping his neck to the side so quickly an audible crack could be heard. Eames was nowhere there.

He sighed, a little shaken by the experience. He remembered everything that happened. He lay on his bed, head throbbing. He was afraid he would fall asleep and when he woke up the following morning, he’d forget Eames. He did his best to stay awake but exhaustion dragged him under. He could only hope he’d recall the man of his dreams.

*

A few weeks later, Robert was packing his belongings, shoving boxes into the trunk of his car after deciding to sell the company to Proclus Global. His father would not have approved but Robert needed a break from work. He could do what he wanted to do anyway, he was a grown adult.

He slammed the trunk shut and stared at the building one last time before making a move for the door handle but a reflection in the glass caused him to freeze.

“Remember me?” the silky British voice sent tingles down Robert’s spine.

“Eames,” He breathed, whirling around to grab his face and kissed him hard, biting his lip until he drew blood. When he pulled away, Eames’ lips were smeared with red and Robert grinned.

“Join me for a ride? I just had my sheets changed.” Robert winked before walking over to the passenger side of the car and opening the door for Eames.

“Absolutely.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'd probably work on more of these because they're quite fun but I'd love to know if you guys enjoy it too! 
> 
> Thanks for reading xx


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